


A performer’s story

by Phantomxlegend



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Everyone lives, F/M, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Orpheus is a dork, They’re just enjoying life, and being dorks, and we love him, no one dies, orpheus is a himbo, orphydice, tbh I wrote this instead of doing a lot of things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28023768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomxlegend/pseuds/Phantomxlegend
Summary: Orpheus has been performing almost his entire life, Hermes mentions something about his first performance and Eurydice gets curious.
Relationships: Eurydice & Hermes (Hadestown), Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown), Hermes & Orpheus (Hadestown)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	A performer’s story

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been on some hadestown brain rot today juugrhyrh, this also took me like all day to write but still. I’ve wanted to write hadestown fanfiction for a long time. No angst for tonight lmao (maybe you never know).
> 
> I love Orpheus and Eurydice so much hushgrhhdg, I’m too sensitive for hadestown, I’m sobbing on the “and brother you know what they did? They danced”
> 
> Enjoy.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he does it,” Eurydice commented, leaning her elbows on the bar counter, her sleeves bunched up to try and keep the heat out. She admired her husband from the stage as he played a lively tune, singing and tapping his foot on the ground to keep the beat.

“What is it you’ll never understand?” Hermes asked, pulling a bottle from the shelf.

“How he can go up there and sing in front of everyone,” Eurydice shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ear, “I feel I’d be much too frightened.”

Hermes chuckled, siding up next to Eurydice, pouring a glass for one of the patrons that had taken a spot at the counter, “Has Orpheus ever talked to you about his first performance?”

“I don’t recall,” Eurydice raised an eyebrow. There was a mischievous glint in Hermes’ eyes.

“You know, I think when we close up you should ask him about it.”

“Is it something embarrassing?” Eurydice asked, hope gleaming in her eyes.

Hermes chuckled but didn’t say anything else. Eurydice pressed her lips into a pout when she realized that she’d have to wait for the story.

“Get back to work,” Hermes patted her on the arm, “I don’t pay you to sit around.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eurydice waved her hand dismissively, straightening her posture and moving on to collect empty glasses.

* * *

Around twenty minutes before closing, Orpheus had slung his guitar over his shoulder, hopping down from the stage. His cheeks were tinted red as he pecked Eurydice on the cheek as he passed. He said something to Hermes, who nodded, and Orpheus took the stairs to the apartment above.

“Time to start giving people the hint?” Eurydice asked, cracking her knuckles.

“Mhm,” Hermes hummed, making the last calls for drinks.  
Orpheus returned to the bar as the last few people left, closing the door behind themselves. He sat down on one of the stools.

“Could you hear me good?” Orpheus asked, “I think I broke the microphone.”

“The microphone wasn’t plugged in Orpheus,” Hermes responded, raising one eyebrow at the boy. Orpheus blushed, his eyes widening.

“What?” He turned to the stage, following the wire with his eyes, “No one told me?”

“We thought you knew,” Eurydice covered her mouth with one hand to hide her laughter, “you always sing loudly, I thought that the mic was just for show.”

“Oh, that’s so embarrassing,” Orpheus hid his face in his hands, “next you’ll tell me I had my zipper down the whole time.”

“It might’ve been after you came back from the bathroom,” Eurydice shrugged, shoving a broom in his direction, “Come on Poet, cleaning time.”

Orpheus groaned his cheeks a few shades redder from embarrassment. He took the broom, pushing himself back up to his feet.

Hermes laughed, “Lock the door while you’re up, would you Eurydice?”

“So pushy,” Eurydice sighed, locking the front doors.

“Not many people throughout the day,” Hermes commented, checking through the money they had earned. He grabbed the tip jar that was placed on the edge of the stage and the one near the end of the bar. 

“It’s the middle of the summer, things tend to slow down,” Eurydice said, “I’m surprised that there weren’t even that many before closing.”

Orpheus whistled as he swept the floor, almost running into one of the tables that had been moved throughout the day by the patrons. 

“No big deal,” Hermes responded, “it’s good savings for the winter, that’s for sure.”

“I thought Persephone was going to stop by today,” Orpheus looked up from the ground, furrowing his eyebrows at Hermes.

“Thursday, Orpheus. She’s gonna come by Thursday,” Hermes tsked, “I told you yesterday.”

Orpheus pressed his lips in a thin line, balancing the broom in the crook of his arm, he counted out the days on his fingers.

“It’s only Tuesday, Love,” Eurydice helped him.

“I know that! Mr. Hermes said Tuesday!”

“I said Thursday.”

Orpheus huffed, “I disagree, but I’ll respect your opinion.”

“It ain’t an opinion! I said Thursday when you asked me,” Hermes shook his head, “Songbird, didn’t you ask something about Orpheus’ first performance earlier today.”

“Right,” Eurydice singsonged, “Orpheus, I can’t believe that you never told me about your first performance.”

Orpheus froze, “have you two not wounded my pride enough tonight?” he pointed the broom accusatively at the both of them.

“Of course not,” Eurydice said, “now spill Poet. I’m dying to know. Mr. Hermes hasn’t told me anything.”

“Well, I’m not gonna explain,” Orpheus exclaimed, “my pride is bruised and I can’t believe that you’d even bring that up.” Orpheus stared at Hermes with a dumbfounded expression. The god chuckled and waved his hand dismissively.

“The poor boy got such a bad case of stage fright he nearly peed himself,” Hermes explained with an amused expression crossing his face, “he wouldn’t speak for the rest of the day it went so badly. No one would listen to him and his voice was cracking so badly people would’ve thought the mic was broken.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Orpheus squeaked, one would’ve assumed that he had a fever with how red his face was.

“How old!” Eurydice cried, grinning excitedly, “oh that’s too cute.”

“If I remember right he was around 13 or so, a lot younger than now, this was years ago,” Hermes chuckled, “Orpheus has had performing in his blood for years. He’s been playing for so long.”

“Is it ‘just make fun of Orpheus’ today?” Orpheus grumbled, leaning on the broom he was holding.

“Oh, no one's making fun of you Love, it’s all in good fun,” Eurydice kissed him on the cheek, “I think it’s cute, hearing about your childhood. I like imagining a small Orpheus all shy and reserved.” She patted his shoulders, “you certainly have no qualms about being the center of attention now.”

“I’m a performer,” Orpheus looked away.

“I have pictures I believe,” Hermes chimed in helpfully. Eurydice nearly jumped out of her skin with excitement.

“Oh, you have to show me now!”

“No!” Orpheus exclaimed.

**Author's Note:**

> Orpheus is a himbo and we love him,,, the little “yes?” With that tone of voice he does whenever Eurydice addresses him literally sends me. It’s so fricken cute. Like especially in promises (there’s other songs that it’s “Orpheus.” “Yes?” And I love it so much)
> 
> Anyway hjjhrhehfheg hope you enjoyed. Love y’all! Till the next update!


End file.
